I'm Only Sleeping
by BeatleLOVE
Summary: Having a shitty day sucks...until four fantastic Liverpudlian men come to save it! Yes, I know this summary sucks, so just read the bloody thing!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Based on a daydream that I had yesterday. The beginning actually happened by the way (: I was reading _A Beatle For My Valentine _by ****LilyEyes777. It's really funny, I fell off my bed laughing XD**

******Disclaimer: I don't own Britney Spears, Cheap Trick, or Green Day. And certainly not those four Liverpudlian lads that I am so infatuated with. Someday, evil disclaimer, I will prove you wrong. You just wait 'til I build my time machine -evil laugh-**

**

* * *

I'm Only Sleeping** by BeatleLOVE

**_CRASH!_**

Eyes wide open in shock, I glance around my room, hoping no one was there to observe my clumsiness. _Oh thank god no one's home. _ _Not that anyone'd have been suprised if they _were_ here to see that. _I quickly pick myself and my phone up off the floor where we had recently fallen, thanks to **_LilyEyes777_** for writing another hilarious Beatle fic. I eye my Beatle posters suspiciously. _ You didn't see _anthing.

Even though no one's there to see me, I can feel my cheeks heat up. _Oops, I did it again,_ I grin to myself. Feeling exceedingly stupid now, I carefully seat myself on my futon, making sure not to hit my head on the bed above it. I'd done that _way_ too many times already. I can't help if I'm a klutz, I just seem to attract embarassing moments wherever I go..

_Crap, now where'd I put that damned phone? Oh... I'm sitting on it._ I happily post a review stating how funny that particular story was. _I wonder...does she think I'm a stalker? I kinda review on every. Single. Thing... Nah,_ I shake my head. I give good feedback.

**_Review posted. Please allow up to 1 hour to be visible._**

_ Why does it take that damn long to post a bloody review and half an hour to post an entire story?_

I check my story for any new reviews. _None? Aw damn, I posted _four _bloomin' chapters yesterday! FOUR! _My rant echoes through my head.

_ Jesus, Amanda, chill out. _Stupid me, always right. _It's only been a day! Give the people some bloody time to breathe! It's not like they constantly check it; Hell, _you're _your number one stalker!_

I can't argue with that. When I'm not writing, drawing or playing music (or a mixture of the three), I'm on FaceBook and FanFiction. _Wow, I need a life..._

Thing is, it's pretty hard to have a life when the only best friend that actually lives close to you hates your favourite band and is probably too busy snogging her newest boy-toy to take any notice of you. Plus, the other two are too far away. Sadness. _So much for getting by with a little help from my friends._

I sigh, utterly bored now seeing as no one has bothered to post anything new and I've written almost four more new chapters today. What a sad existence.

Giving up on I deas, I lazily throw myself onto the piano bench. _C'mon Amanda, you can do this. Take it slow. The parts are easy._ My dingers stumble over the keys, and my pathetic attempt to play McCartney's **_Lady Madonna_** sounds horrific.

"OMIGOD! Why can't I get that right!" I scream in frustration, hands thrown in the air. "That's it; I'm through, I'm done, I surrender!"

_Mommy's all right, Daddy's all right; They just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender, But don't give yourself away-ey-eyy-eyyyy!_

Facepalm. _I'm such an idiot. Oh no, no, n- aw, damn. _**_American Idiot_** now rns through my brain. _Screw my easily manipulated mind.._

I can't concentrate with two songs stuck in my head. "Oh, screw it.." I turn to turn off my keyboard, but to my suprise it already is. _That's odd. I swear I didn't...whatever._ I snatch up my phone again and go directly to YouTube. Soon George Harrison's awesome voice fills my ears with my angry song. _Don't come around, leave me alone, don't bother me.._

Suddenly, the music stops. _ Goddamn stupid lag; Stopping my so-_

My thought is interrupted by the quiet mumbling coming from my bed.

"Do ya think she can hear us?"

"I dunno, she hasn't turned around."

"Maybe she's deaf!"

"No, ye bloody fool. If she was then why d'ya think there's instruments in here?"

"Well, maybe she's _recently _deaf."

"Oh, who gives a damn. Either way, why don't we find out the, ey?"

A hand lands on my shoulder and I scream out in terror. My arms flailing wildly definitely dosen't help with my balance issues, and I topple off the piano bench, falling on my arse for the sencond time that hour.

"Well, we know she can talk now, don' we?" A smug face grins at me. A very smug, very _familiar _face. My eyes widen.

"Uh, um, ah.." I stutter. There is _no _way this is happening.

"Whassa matter, doll? Ye were pretty noisly a moment ago, now what's happened?"

I can't take it anymore. "HOLYFREAKINGCRAP YOU'RE JOHN LENNON!" I blurt out. "I mean, ah, um, crap.."

"Why yes. Yes I am."

I look past him and examine each of the three faces on the futon. _No. Fricken. Way!_

"Look wacha did _now_, John. Ye scared the poor bird outta her wits." _Omigod, is that James Paul McCartney! _I feel like I'm gonna die. This is _way_ too much.

'Ye okay, love?" A concerned-looking George Harrison kneels over me. I'm starting to feel pretty dizzy. _Don't faint, don't faint, do-_

* * *

I open my eyes. That had to have been one of the trippiest dreams ever. _See? I was dreaming. I'm even on my bed._

"Looks like the bird's awake." Omigod, no _way._

"Well, that didn't take too long." A puppy-eyed face looms over me.

_What the fu- _"Ringo Starr.." I whisper in disbelief.

"Ey, she know's me name!: He grins delightedly, making himself look even more like a puppy. An adorable one.

"I wonder if she knows mine." Two large hazel eyes come into view. "Ello, love."

"Omigo-omigo-OMIFREAKINGGOD!" _I'm totally dreaming. _"You're Paul McCartney!"

He pulls away with a satisfied smirk. "Well, that answers me question, dosen't it?"

George hesitantly comes near me again. "Now don't swoon over me again, 'kay love?"

_Holy crap. George, Paul, John and Ringo! All alive? Together? AND young!_

"I-I gotta be dreaming.." I repeated for the millionth time.

"'Fraid not, love. We're as real as can be." John shrugs, "How we got here, I don't know. Ye could say we just kinda popped in."

Wait, no phsycadellic swirly colors? No sacraficial ring from **_Help!_**? No spiked food? And it's definitely _not _a dream? _What the hell is going on! I _have _to be bloody mental._

"Ya gotta be kidding me, right?" I look from face to adorable face. Each one stared at me blankly. "This isn't real.."

"Gear room ya got here." Paul states, examining my stuff. "Real futuristic. Like the posters best."

I can't help but grin. "Of course."

"Now what's that supposed t'mean?" Ringo looks at me suspiciously.

"Nothing! I was just teasin'!" I put on my best innocent face and prayed they'd buy it.

"Hm, seems fiesty if ya ask me," John winks. _Well, no one did, did they Lennon? Hmph, and no stealing Paulie's wink!_

Despite all the smart remarks I came up with, I blush. "Well, at least we know I'm not anglophobic.."

Ringo tilts his head in question. "Angla_what?_"

Gliggling, I explain. "It means fear of Englishmen."

"Now who'd fear us?" John bats his eylashes rapidly.

"Me. No not all of you!" I quickly reassure them. "Just John." Said Beatle cocks an eyebrow at me.

"What? You can be pretty damn scary at times, Lennon."

"She has a point." I hear George whisper.

"Well since when did you get all smart? What happened to this bein' a dream, eh?"

"Well, if it is then I might as well enjoy it. And that includes poking fun at you."

"Hmph. Yer lucky I'm a gentleman, or else you'd be cryin'."

I try resisting a laugh, to no avail. "John Lennon? A _gentleman?_ Wow, this really _is _a dream."

His already thin eyes narrow even further. "Now ya better watch yerself, miss. Ya don't know what I can do."

"Ooh, I'm completely terrified of a figment of my imagination. Real threatening."

"Ya seemed pretty terrified before." He countered.

"Well you caught me by suprise."

"Oh, ye don't want me to catch ya by suprise again, or I'll-"

"Wow, ya really know how to get on his nerves, dontcha?" George teases, interrupting whatever John's threat was.

John sits back down on the bench grumpily. "Stupid bird. No one talks t'me like that."

"Well maybe someone should." I mutter. Paul chuckles. This day just got a _whole _lot better.

* * *

**A/N: Sadly, I probably would faint if that happened. And why do i always piss off John? I don't know, but it's really fun..**

**Since I've started writing, I've become somewhat of a review whore (: Whomever reviews gets to virtually hug Ringo! He's cuddly (;**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY! I've been working on this since I uploaded chapter 1! I **_**finally**_** finished it because I 1) got mad at myself for procrastinating, and 2) finally got an idea to make it longer. Again: I'M SORRY! I hope ya'll didn't leave me D:**

"And then Paul fell off the stage!" John concludes his story. We all burst out laughing, except poor ridiculed Paulie.

"Oh,shaddup, Lennon. Like ya haven't had yer share o' embarrassin' moments," he defends his pride. He looks at George. "Remember that time when he-"

George's eyes light up. "Oh! With the-"

"-and that thing-"

"-and then he-" George erupts into giggles.

"Yeah, that!"

John glares at them while poor clueless Ringo and me look from face to face, utterly baffled. "What goes on?" I question, hoping to understand.

"Ye better not answer her," John warns, "Or I'll skin both o' ya!"

Paulie pouts. "Aw, don't be such a spoilsport, Johnny. We're just havin' some fun."

John rolls his eyes at his friend. "Yer face doesn't work on me like it does on the birds, Macca."

"Damn."

I lean toward George and whisper, "Are they _always_ like this?"

"Only if there's a bird around. Gets 'em real territorial and stuff. Don' worry; This barney won't last long."

I look at him. "Barney?"

"A small fight. Ya didn' know that?"

"Oh, don't be daft, I'm not from the UK."

"Well ya seem to know quite a few words."

"Yep, and I'm quite chuffed about that."

"Blimey!" he grins. "Ey, boys, she knows what 'chuffed' means!"

"That's bull!" John argues, pausing his and Macca's quarrel. "That's purely Liverpudlian!"

I grin, quite proud (or, well, chuffed) of this accomplishment. John stares at me, eyebrows raised, as if he doesn't know what to make of me. _Take a picture, it'll last longer. _"I'm a Beatles fan, remember? Gotta learn me boys' old words!"

Paul stares at me quizzically. "_Old_ words? Ye gotta be crazy..." He looks around my room once more. "...Ya know, I shoulda noticed this before, but... Yer room doesn't look _anything_ like back home." He pauses. "Ye never told us where we are...or even _when_..."

My eyes grow. They'd never be able to take the truth. "U-uh, whyddya ask?"

"Because it's obviously not 1962, is it?" John points out harshly.

"U-um..." I stutter, trying to come up with some explanation. Unable to think of something, I sigh in defeat. "Ya _really_ wanna know?"

"Yes," he and Paul state firmly.

"Don't freak out but... I-it's 2011."

Each face drops. _Oh god, I _knew_ I shouldn't have told them..._

"2-2011?" George whispers, not believing his ears.

I nod a silent answer to his question.

"B-but that's not possible," Ringo mumbles. "There's no bloody way... I'm not old!"

"Well _all_ of you are very hansom still." I can't tell them about George and John. Not yet, not like this. It'd be way too much for them. Too much for me.

"Oi! Are we-" (John)

"What do we-" (George)

"Am I a-" (Paul)

"_Do I have a girlfriend!_" (Ringo)

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! I am _not_ answering these questions!" I cover my ears and shake my head, symbolizing my refusal. John pouts, trying to get me to give in, but I glare at him and he relents. Paul opens his mouth to say something and I shush him. "No. More. Questions."

"_Fine..._" John sighs.

"But I wanted to know if I have a bird or not..." Ringo grumbles to himself.

"Aw, don't fret Rings," Paul pats him on the head. "Ye probably got yerself a real nice one."

"Ya think so?" He looks up hopefully.

"Maybe," Paul shrugs. "It's not like _I_ know the future." With that he looks at me accusingly.

I cock my eyebrow in reply. "I told ya Macca, _no._"

He gives an over exaggerated sigh and turns away. George smirks at us and chuckles to himself. "You two are just like children."

"More like an old married couple!" John, always the smartass, pipes in.

"Shaddup, Lennon!" Paul snaps.

"And why should I, hm? Yer not the boss of me!"

"BOYS! BOTH OF YA'LL SHUTTUP!" I intervene. George laughs and Ringo stares at me with those giant puppy-eyes again. _Aaawww! Did I scare poor Ritchie?_

John raises his eyebrows and grins. "She's got some pipes."

"I think I'd say so, too," Paul agrees. "Nice and, _ow,_ loud." He teases by pretending that I injured his hearing.

I childishly stick out my tongue and cross my arms. "Meanie."

"I want a cookie..."

John, George, Paul, and I turn to face Ringo who's sitting on the floor. "Ringo," I say cautiously. "That was _really_ random."

He looks up at us innocently. "Well you were fighting so I was thinking of nice things to focus on, and a cookie popped into my head because cookies are nice. It's really not that hard."

The other three Beatles sigh in exasperation while I burst out laughing. "Ringo," I choke out. "You. Are. Awesome!"

He grins at me, "Ya really think so?"

"Of _course!_ You're so funny and adorable! How could you _not_ be awesome?"

"Well, thanks! I think you're awesome, too!"

"Aw, thanks!" I sit down and hug him tightly.

"No problem, doll. Ya know, most birds don' really think of me like that," he admits sheepishly as he returns the hug.

"Well, they're mental then!"

He starts laughing and looks at me again. "I mean it when I say yer real gear."

I smile at him. "I mean it, too."

John, by now tremendously bored, interrupts. "Okay, okay, break up the love fest!"

"Don' worry, he's just jealous," Paul whispers loudly in my ear.

"Oi, I heard that, McCartney!"

"You were meant to!"

"You li'l bugger."

George plops down next to us. "Oh, don't start _that_ again."

I giggle because that brings _**The Jungle Book**_ to mind. He sounds just like the vultures, ironically modeled after The Beatles. Go figure. Thank god he assumes I'm laughing at the boys' barney (I like that word, I think I'll use it more often) so we avoid any more awkward explanations, or, well, more like _lack_ of them. Paul and John continue like this for the rest of the night, constantly pausing their arguments when George, Ringo, and I butt in. All in all, it's pretty entertaining.

**A/N: Yeah, I know it's kinda a stupid chapter, but I really couldn't think of anything! I'm sorry again! Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hahahaha I was writing and typing this out while talking to KAILA! YEAH **_**StrawberryLily777**_** BITCHES! WE ARE BEAST! ****Go super awesomesauce can of soup Macca obsessive tea telepathic mind control sister buddies! YEAH! XD Okay, just had to say that (:**

I lazily stretch and open my eyes to find my head on Ringo's shoulder and my legs strewn across George's lap. Both of them are still asleep and- _Whoa, wait a minute... George and Ringo? What the-_

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A very disgruntled looking Paul shoots up and glares at me. "Now what in bloody hell did you do _that_ for?"

"You. Guys. Ah. Uh. Um. SHIT!"

Ringo, still being my pillow, rubs his ears and winces. "Right in me ear. Really, Mandy, really? I kinda _need_ me ears if ya hadn't noticed."

"Omigeorge! That wasn't a dream!" I squeal, ignoring his griping.

George, of course by now fully awake, cocks his eyebrow at John and mouths, "Omigeorge?" John shrugs in reply and snickers at my word choice.

The next excited words about to escape my mouth freeze in place. _T-this isn't the room I fell asleep in..._ "Um, w-where am I?" I ask timidly.

"Home, I guess," John states nonchalantly as he gets up and walks into the kitchen. "Well, _our_ home, that i- _RINGO DID YOU EAT MY COOKIES!_"

The suspect shrinks behind me. "N-no... Well, maybe... I mean... PAUL HAD SOME, TOO!"

"OI! YOU TWIT! DON'T RAT ME OUT!" an utterly offended Paul cries.

George and I sit side by side, waiting for John to kill someone. "No one. Steals. My. Cookies!" he pounces on Paul and the two begin wrestling. George, always the quick thinker, grabs me and practically carries me off to the side because I'm laughing too hard. Ringo, who's obviously not thinking too clearly, joins in the chaos by slamming pillows onto the rolling mess of Beatles.

We watch the scene with wide eyes as if it's a highly interesting show on Animal Planet (which there really isn't much difference). John cackles madly as he bashes poor Paul and Ringo with pillow after pillow. "MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oi! Ow! I'm. Ow. Gonna. Friggin. Owch! Kill. Gah. You!" Paul screams through the storm of pillows and stray feathers. Ringo tries blocking the assault with a pillow of his own, but his shield doesn't do him much good. He seems to be taking it well though, because he's giggling like a little kid. _Mandy, he's Ringo Starr. Of __**course**__ he's like a child!_

I feel George leave my side and I spin around, put my hands on my hips, and hiss, "And where do you think _you're_ going? Don't leave me with these people!"

"Well then are ya gonna come with me or not?"

"Um, where exactly?"

He sighs and puts his hand to his forehead. _Dude! Omigeorge I just made George Harrison facepalm! Ahh! _"Me room. I'm gonna play some guitar while I can."

"Oh, sure!" He grabs my arm and steers me to his room while I ramble. "You know, you're an amazing musician. I admire your skills so much. I wish I could play like you. Your guitars are so pretty! I love guitars. Do you? Well, that's a stupid question! Of course you like guitars! I mean, you're a freaking guitarist! I'm-" He silences me with an amused smirk and I start stuttering again. "Y-y-yeah..."

"BLAST! THE BIRD'S GETTIN' AWAY! JOHN! RINGO! GET HER! GEORGIE'S TRYIN' T'STEAL HER!"

"NEVER! GEORGE, THIS IS WAR!"

Paul rounds the corner of the hall and points his finger at us shouting loudly, "I FOUND 'EM!" When he turns around, George and I dive into the closest bedroom and wait for the worst. George closes us in the closet and suddenly (for me at least) things get awkward. My cheeks heat up and I try to keep my mouth shut in fear of getting caught or, god forbid, saying something stupid again. George peers out a crack in the door and I wrack my brain for something cute and witty to say. _Holy. Crap. If Shelby knew I was locked in a closet with George Freaking Harrison, she'd flip! ...And then kill me of course._ "Hm, this is some nice guitar playing."

Even in the dim lighting I can see him smile and shake his head. "Yeah, really," he whispers as a wave of pride washes over me. I made a Beatle smile at a stupid joke? Hell yes I did! I become so consumed with my thoughts that I have a freak attack when I hear footsteps. George quickly covers my mouth and I turn even redder. He raises his eyebrows which pretty much makes me die inside. _Oh shit. _He puts a finger to his mouth to signal "Shhh" and I nod. He takes his hand away so we can both look through the cracks in the door. The first thing I see is a mess of hair right in my face and I resist the urge to "Eep!" in surprise. George looks at me and mouths, "Ringo." _Ohh, _I give him a thumbs-up and continue watching the drummer.

"Guys, I'll be a minute! I gotta find somethin'!" George pulls me away from the door and we cower in the corner of the tiny closet as Ringo searches through his room muttering to himself.

_CRASH!_

_ "_GODDAMMIT JOHN, LOOK WHAT YA DID!"

George and I turn to each other and he shrugs. "Probably broke something again."

"RINGS! HAVE YA FOUND 'EM YET? WE NEED GEORGE!"

"No not yet!" he hollers back with a sigh. "How come it's never 'Hey! We need Ringo!'? Hm? It's because I'm little, isn't it? They think they're better 'cos they're taller! Stupid blokes..."

My heart melts when I hear poor little Ringo. "Awww!" George "shhh"'s me again, but it's too late. Ringo sticks his head in the closet and finds us sitting there. He grins triumphantly at us and opens his mouth to yell. "No Ringo, don't!" I gasp.

"OI! JOHN! PAULIE! I FOUND 'EM!"

"You're so mean, Rings," I pout.

"Sorry, love," he sticks out his hand and I take it.

George runs to the bed and grabs an armful of pillows then tosses one to each of us. Ringo and I look at him quizzically and he explains, "We're gonna attack them first. Duh."

We nod and prepare for battle. It takes a minute, but John and Paul walk in chatting and George yells "ATTACK!" They scream in terror and try to protect them selves as we ambush them.

"GAHH GETTEM OFF ME!" (John)

"MWAHAHAHAHA REVENGE IS SWEET!" Ringo hollers. I pause to stare at him and Paul snatches my pillow away. His arm snakes around me in a tight hold. "I've got a hostage!"

"You. Suck!" I struggle to break free, but his grip is too strong. I glare at him, "I hate you."

"Ye know ya don't mean that, doll."

"Oh, I'm certain I do."

"Sure," he smiles while he fights off Ringo with my pillow. "Everyone loves me."

"Conceited-much?"

"Maybe."

John laughs darkly when he disarms George who in turn decides to rescue me from Mr. Egotistical. "Oh, let the poor bird go, Macca. She's obviously not yers."

_Heh... heheheheh... Oh, if he only knew. _"Yeah. Lemme go." I try my best puppy face.

"Sorry, doesn't work on me, hun!"

"Arsehole."

"Aw do what Georgie said, Paul," John grins. "She's probably one of my fans."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Oh, hell no."

"And what's _that_ mean, huh?"

"I'm definitely _not_ your girl, Lennon."

"Yeah, she's mine! Like I said," Paul interrupts.

"Aw, c'mon. Why can't she be Ringo's?" George pipes up and makes everyone silent. John, being the jerk that he is, starts laughing his head off.

"Really, George? _Rings?_ Yeah, I'd believe that!" he chuckles.

"YEAH! I'M RINGO'S!" I wiggle out of Paul's death hold and hide behind the short drummer.

"Ya gotta be kidding me, right?" Paul asks, baffled.

I shrug and hug Ringo. "I love all my boys." Ringo just stands there in shock as a grin slowly spreads across his face.

"Ringo... beat us?" John mumbles. "Damn..."

"Good job, Rings." George pats him on the back and winks at me. "He's just a cover, isn't he?" he whispers into my ear.

"Mmhm," I answer. "But I really do think he's adorable." He smiles at me again and walks away.

"So... whacha wanna do with her?" John hints devilishly.

"NO LENNON NO!" I scream. "YOU PERV!"

"I never said I meant _that_."

"Oh, you know you did, you creep."

"I coulda meant baking cookies for all you know!"

"Ew, those are some nasty cookies, then."

"Well Ringo and Paul ate my cookies and I expect some replacements," he glares at the offenders.

"B-but I don't know how to bake!" Ringo wails.

"THEN LEARN!"

"OH FOR PETE BEST'S SAKE, I'LL TEACH YOU!" I volunteer.

"Really?" he looks up at me hopefully.

"Yes now get your arse in that kitchen before I kick it in there."

"Okay!" he agrees cheerfully. I shake my head and smile. _He's adorable._

**A/N: SO HOW'D YA LIKE IT? I loved it (: It's so fun hahaha XD I love it when I run out of ideas, I always come up with the funnest scenes! Review please! I love ya'll (:**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry fer the confusion! I'm guessing that most of you read my other fics, and usually if the main character is Mandy, then she's most likely a Paulie gal. Truth is, if if I were in those situations, I'd act the exact same way. Just wanted to clear that up (: And I know it's been a while, but it hasn't been a month, so I'm getting better! ^^" And Lys and Kay, sorry fer the spoiler earlier! I was just so excited!**

"_Ringo!_ Where's the flour?" I call as I hunt through their cupboards. So far all I've found are sugary cereals, pudding, and other crap that rots your teeth. Well, pudding isn't crap, but you get the point I'm trying to make. These boys are sugar fiends.

"Flowers? Whaddya need those fer?" His head pops out from the fridge. "You want the cookies to smell pretty?"

I sigh in exasperation. "No, Ringo. _Flour. _ With a 'u.' Ya know, the thing you use when you bake? It;s white and powdery?" He giggles and I glare disapprovingly. "Not _coke!_ God, you guys are such...well, _guys!_ Now stop giggling and find some flour, 'cos no flour means no cookies for John, and no cookies for John means no more Ringo!"

He immediately stops and sobers up. I can't help but feel bad for him. I mean, c'mon, who can resist Ringo Starr's puppy face? It's physically impossible or something.

"You know I didn't mean that."

"I know, but John's bloody terrifyin'!"

"Well, if we find where the hell the flour is, then the only things that need to be afraid of him are the cookies." I go back to search through the cupboards, looking for the other necessary ingredients. "Guys! Where's the sugar?"

"Used it up yesterday fer me tea!" George hollers back.

"Eggs?"

"I needed breakfast!" John bellows.

"Ugh! This is impossible!"

"Oh, we can't be _that_ bad, can we?" Paul rests his chin in his hand and leans on the countertop. I look around for Ringo, but he's mysteriously disappeared from the scene. "D'ya hate us already?"

"No," I try to look busy and nonchalant by wiping the counters clean. "You're just boys and that's all. Messy, unorganised, boys."

"Ey, I'm plenty organised! And clean fer that matter. John and Rings are the filthy ones."

"Well, either way, that still doesn't excuse the fact that you lack pretty much everything that I need to make decent cookies. If you were a gentleman, you'd go buy some."

He smirks at me and I stare at him quizzically. "Did it ever occur to you to try the pantry?"

"T-the pantry?" _Oh god, I feel stupid._

"Yeah, the one right over there." He gestures to a door that I hadn't taken any notice of before.

"O-oh, of course. How silly of me." I go to make my way over, but he stops me.

"Allow me." He goes in and swiftly returns with everything I need, minus the eggs. Before I can point that out, however, he places everything on the counter and snatched a couple eggs from a drawer in the fridge, making me feel even more dim-witted. Once everything is out, he resumes his spot and gazes up at me smugly. "Thank you," is the only thing I can manage without looking embarrassed. With a shrug he says, "No problem. I'll go get Rings so he can help ya."

"Not so fast there, Macca." he pauses and looks over his shoulder at me. "You're as much at fault here as he is. Don't think you're getting off that easily." I place my hands on my hips, signifying that he has no say in the matter. He shrugs again and walks back to me, eyebrow raised.

"And what exactly do I need to do then, Miss Master Chef?"

I swallow the giggle that threatens to bubble up and smile sweetly. "Oh, come on, the McCartney doesn't know how to make a batch of sugar cookies? I'm disappointed in you, James."

He pretends to look offended and then haughty and distinguished as he adjusts his jacket and straightens his posture. "Of _course_ I do, madame. It's a simple task." His faux nasal tone causes he to erupt into the giggles I tried so hard to hold back, and he grins.

…

While he begins mixing the ingredients, I look for a cookie sheet, to no avail. He realises me predicament and pulls one out from under the oven, chuckling at my frustration. Being the child I am, I stick my tongue out and playfully toss a handful of flour in his face. He sputters then smiles wickedly, grabbing some of his own and covering me in the powdery substance. I gasp because I hadn't expected him to throw any back, and quickly retaliate. Pretty soon, everything is dusted with flour and Paul and I are sitting on the floor, laughing at the mess we've made of each other and the kitchen. We lock eyes and smile, and he gently brushes the flour from my face. I can feel my heart beat faster as his big hazel eyes grow closer and I hold my breath in anticipation when-

"Oh, look at the mess you've made!"

Paul slowly turns his head to glare at George, obviously annoyed at the interruption.

"Everything's covered! My kitchen! This is goin' t'take _forever!_"

"He's such a mother at times," Paul mutters, still glaring at his friend.

I nod, unable to speak. _Oh my...oh my god...did we almost...?_

"I'm _not_ cleanin' this up! _Yer_ doin' this Paul! You-"

"George."

"-are goin' t'wipe _everything_ off and-"

"George!"

"-_you'll _make sure all this is spotless cos-"

"GEORGE!"

Aforementioned Beatle pauses and finally takes notice of Paul's initial intention, before he was interrupted. "O-oh...um...carry on...yea..." he stutters awkwardly and walks away, looking embarrassed with a slight pink to his cheeks.

Once he's gone, Paul turns back to me and smiles. "Well..."

"I-uh-um... He's right!" I hurriedly scramble to my feet. "We really _should_ start cleaning, and..." He stops me in the middle of my sentence by tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I mean...um..." The next thing I realise are his lips pressed softly against mine and the fireworks going off in my mind. I practically melt into a little Mandy-puddle, I'm so euphoric. We break away far too soon for my liking and grin. "And you said you were a Ringo girl," he smiles. I giggle and we lean in one more time.

Screw John's goddamned cookies.

**A/N: YAAAY~! I'M SOO HAPPY I GOT THAT OVER WITH :D I know y'all have been waiting fer Mandy and Paul to kiss in pretty much _all _of my stories, so here ya go! I LOVED IT! It totally brightened my day, 'specially cos I can't talk D: My throat's so sore from auditions and the dance last night, that my voice is pretty much gone! Oh well, I'll live ^^ I'll have even more chance of living if y'all REVIEW (: Just a suggestion (; (Actually it's not. It's an order MWAHAHAHAHA)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry guys! It's been ages! If you read my update for _Sgt. Pepper's LHCB_, then you'll understand why (: Speaking of _Pepper's_, it gave a little bit of a spoiler (; Did any of you catch the hint?**

If you think randomly waking up in a house that isn't your own is strange, imagine waking up cuddling a shirtless Paul McCartney. Sexy, I know, but wouldn't that be completely unexpected and odd?

Now you'll understand why I threw a fit this morning.

It all started when I opened my eyes. First off, I couldn't actually open them because there was something in the way. Second of all, that something was warm. And _moving_. So I squeaked. No, I didn't scream like last time; I was scared I'd wake up whatever had momentarily blinded me. As I slowly pulled away, my eyes met skin. And skin. And _more_ skin. Trailing my gaze upward, the first different things I met were lips. Why'd they look familiar? I recognised the reason when I actually saw the full picture. Paul. A very cute, very sleepy Paul. I wanted to melt, yet again, right there. Until I realised something else.

I wasn't wearing pants.

Each time I moved, I felt the cotton sheets brush past my bare skin. My brain started filling with all kinds of assumptions and worries, and soon it became too much. I screamed.

That, of course, woke Paul. He awoke with a start, flinging the bedsheets from himself and onto the floor. His eyes locked on mine, wide in surprised confusion. "Why the hell did you _do_ that! ?"

Horrified, I sprang from the bed. Although I saw I was the only one lacking pants, I still didn't trust the half-naked man gaping at me. _Fuck, what did we_ do? A thousand more thought filled my head, all of some type of corruption. _I thought I wasn't ready for this!_ It took me a while to realise I was shaking. Actually, the only reason I noticed was because I had suddenly found myself wrapped in his arms.

"Shh, love..." he murmured soothingly in my ear. "Calm down... did you have a nightmare?"

A nightmare? A fucking _nightmare?_ Did he even _realise_ what had happened? Then again, that probably wouldn't have seemed like a problem to him, seeing as he would have been the one to instigate it. _Fucking goddamn Beatle... messing with my head and-_

"Mandy?"

I glared up at him and snapped, "What? What more could you _possibly_ want from me?"

His eyebrows raised in question. "What's the matter?"

I clenched my fists, resisting the want to do nothing less than punch him in his pretty face. So instead I decided I'd hit him with my words. "Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you took advantage of me last night. Used me. _Corrupted_ me. God, I can't believe I _trusted_ you! I mean, for god sakes, Paul! I-"

His hand latched onto my mouth, silencing me. Before I could bite him, however, he spoke. "Listen, love. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about! I didn't do any of the things you've accused me of."

If looks could kill, he'd have been ashes in the wind by then. "Zehn vherez aye fantz?"

His head cocked to the side. "What?"

About to lose my temper, I ripped his hand away from my face. "THEN WHERE'S MY PANTS! ?"

He looked at me blankly and pointed to the dresser. Following the direction he suggested, my glare fell onto a pair of neatly folded bell bottoms. _My_ neatly folded bell bottoms. Out of nowhere, memories of last night flooded my mind, replacing the evil thoughts I'd had. "O-oh..." My cheeks burned so badly, my opinion had changed.

"Yeah. Remember now?" The way he was looking at me made me wish _I_ were the ashes.

I nodded, feeling guilty. "Yeah, I remember..."

…

And that's how I ended up here: curled up on the couch, feeling like an idiot. John's been giving me crap all morning because now Paul's sulking in his room. "I've been a bitch..." I sigh to myself. _Should I go see him? Or should I wait for him to come out?_ These are the thoughts that've been killing me these past two hours. _Why do I always screw these kinds of things up? We _just_ kissed for the first time yesterday! _I groan in frustration and rest my head in my hands. _Idiot, idiot, idiot..._

"You can go see him, ya know."

I look up, rubbing my burning eyes. "W-what?"

Ringo's sad cerulean puppy eyes gaze back at me. "You just hurt his pride, is all."

"Yeah, I know..." _Idiot! _ My mind screams at me.

The couch moves and I find Ringo sitting next to me. "Just go talk to him."

"B-but.." I stammer nervously.

"Listen," he says softly. "Talk to him. He's nowhere near as mad as you think he is."

Another sigh escapes my lips. "Fine." _Shit..._

Comfortingly, he pats my shoulder. "Good. Now go." I let out a whine but stand, glancing hesitantly at the door. "Do it, Mandy," he urges.

Taking a deep breath, I step toward Paul's bedroom. _Oh please, oh please, don't hate me..._

**A/N: Sorry, it's kinda short :/ Da's rushing me ta get off his computer, so I had ta cut it off quickly if I wanted ta post it today. One thing I realised while typing this: I wrote this last night. I read the latest chapter of _Flowers and Rings_ this morning. For all you _Flowers_ fans, you'll recognise the similarities between the two chapters DX Kay was laughing at me cos of it ._. And to all of you that haven't read _Flowers_, READ IT. It's awesome! Same with anything else by my Beatle Birds :3 Like _Two Of Us_ by The Nowhere Girl (a.k.a. Sarah). Okay, my advertising is over now! Love you all! REVIEW~!**


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